


Pressure, Pleasure, Pain

by romanticalgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl





	Pressure, Pleasure, Pain

He pins her wrists above her and looks down at her for a moment before he lowers his head. Her arms are covered in ink, some of it new since he last saw her. They all stand for something, but one of the rules is that he can’t ask. He wants to. He wants to know what drove the needle into her skin again and again, but those are her secrets, not his.

He traces the newest with his tongue. It’s on the inside of her upper arm, small and dark. It’s been fifteen years since this started – truly started – and he knows this one’s for him. She’d sent him a picture of it still wet and fresh and tinged with red. It had a date underneath it, and he can remember the day the time the moment. They were alone and he was holding her after a particularly bad day at school. He’d pushed her hair out of her face and she’d looked at him. And kissed him.

He wanted to say no, but not as much as he’d needed to say yes, and they’d ended up on her bed, arms above her head just like now, mouth on hers, on her neck, on her breasts, on her stomach. She’d spread her legs for him and he’d tasted her and then she’d kissed him, sucking the taste of herself off his tongue. He’d never been so hard as he was at that moment, and then as he was in the next when she’d pushed him onto his back and sunk down on him slick and wet from his tongue.

He knows it hurt her but she’d come tight around him and they’d fallen asleep. And the next night she’d come to his room and they’d done it again.

And again.

She wraps her legs around his waist as he sucks on the tattooed skin. His mark. Their mark. She moans when he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin. Her legs tighten, she tightens, and his hands close around her wrist in bruising marks from his fingers as her heels dig in and pull him deeper. She’s his. He’s hers. And this is theirs.

Again.

And still.


End file.
